Thing
by DanaCW
Summary: When their two best friends are gone, what will be remembered most about them? Finished.
1. 1 of 3 Fin's POV

Thing.

Fin's POV-

No one could put a name on what they had. It defied all natural logic.

_It was bright for a Monday morning. Almost too bright. She had come bouncing in. We all caught the look of appreciation he had sent her outfit's way. Her being in general._

_She had smiled warmly at his leer towards her work 'accessories.' "Here." She stated, as she thrusted a donut into his face, along with a cup of coffee._

I wasn't here, with the department, when the boss had first introduced them. But the people I ask say I missed a beautiful thing. They smiled the whole day. They smiled more when I first got here. Now, none of us can smile without grimacing. But it's still a beautiful thing to watch the two of them together.

_"Thanks." He'd replied. A warm smile overtook his face real quick._

_"Yeah. Anything new?" She'd asked, taking a bite of her own donut._

_"Everything's out there. Take your pick." One of our slightly older colleagues responded. And by older, I mean damn old. Don't get me wrong, I love my partner to death, but the bickering and jabbering is much more fun._

I've watched, silently, as this thing they has became stronger. Some people say it grew when her first stalker decided to come out. Others say different. When her mother died, they seemed to be closer than they were before. Everyday, it got easier to see. With every little thing, it was always there.

_"Funny. But seriously, anything this morning?"_

_"Nope." I'd stated._

_"Nadda." Our older colleague added._

_"Zip." He'd finished, just a little softer._

_"Cute." She'd replied, just as softly, never breaking the heated stare she had held with him._

This thing they had, we used it a lot on the job. For certain operations. Most went off without a hitch. It held strong through so many things. Nothing was ever pleasurable. But things were personal. On so many levels.

_The boss chose that moment to come briskly walking out of his office, to stand between everyone's desks. Turning to the one that belonged to them, he cleared his throat. Noticing that it would take a little more than that to break the tension, he spoke._

_"If I ever catch these two," he pointed to me and my old partner, "I'll resign my pension."_

_That seemed to work, for they both looked away and towards him hastily. Each having the decency to look, at least, slightly, embarrassed._

We all wish we have something like they did. And we know we never will, because that is rare. Unique. Nearly non-existent. It was so strong, that thing that they had, we know they still have that tie, where ever they are.


	2. 2 of 3 Munch's POV

Munch's POV-

They were rooted together like no other two people could ever be. It was almost frightening.

_"What's up, Cap?" He asked, clearing his throat._

_"Just lookin' for an update." When no one responded immediately, his eyebrows rose. "Okay," the captain dragged, "let's try this again, shall we? Where are we today, people? Anything important?"_

_"Nope, Nadda, Zip." She had told him. Her partner, my partner, who by the way reminds me of a burnout pimp, and myself, all snickered._

I was across the room, when they were first introduced. The invisible lines connecting them had begun to place, the first time they looked into each other's eyes. Before any introductions could have been made.

_"Did I miss something?" Our captain asked._

_"It's nothing, Cap." My hippie-like partner reassured._

_Let's make sure it isn't." Our boss replied. "I'll assume that her answer pertains_ _to all of you?" We all nodded. "Good, you two," he pointed to them, "I want you to hand off any pending cases to Alverston and Summers. And I want you two," he then pointed to my partner and I, "two with them." He pointed back to the bound pair._

With each case-related tragedy they went through, the lines became bolder. With each personal tragedy, they became almost inseparable. His over-protective posture had challenged her to override it. Making him smile and her stronger.

_The threats were nothing new. She dealt with them nearly everyday, same as the rest of us. We were, are, cops, of course we were going to have people that hate us. Since they came directly from our prime suspect in an open case, we all took the threats a little more seriously. But, he took them with a little more tension. She hadn't wanted a detail, so he'd volunteered. Much to her admonishment._

_The first week went by smoothly. But at the dawn of the next week, hectic chaos reigned the morning. When he had awoken, she was absent from her usual morning post, beside the coffee maker, in the kitchen. The frantic phone call I'd received left us all in a state of catatonic panic._

What they had…was better used for undercover operations. They passed the small tests, given by the targets, with exuberantly flying colors. Their ties were stronger than the world's best-built support beams. They held on, playing a huge game of tug-of-war while things became personal. Professionalism on the job couldn't help but become enter-twined with personal. But pleasure never entered the equation.

_We searched, blindly. Never sleeping. A tip had come in about an hour earlier. But the witness hadn't been credible. So, we waited. For anything. Until the tipper came in, personally, wanting to know if we'd checked out his 'oh so reliable' sighting. To be sure, we showed his a photo array of random known offenders. Mixed in was the threatener. Much to our surprise, he actually picked a person. The suspect from out case, the case that we had dropped everything for and, in turn, had dropped when she had been taken._

_Her partner cursed himself for not checking out every possible lead, no matter how much credit was merited to its giver. For not watching more closely, when he'd done everything short of taking a shower with her. For not saying what he should have said sooner._

Indefinable. Untouchable. Intangible. Nothing could ever begin to describe the ropes that bound them in so many places. A rope is comprised of different twisted strands. Banned together to form a whole. Just as they had been.

_We arrived at the scene with a pack of other black and whites. Barring our tactical gear used in hostage situations. Only he wore the Kevlar and held his gun in stiffened arms. The rest of us wore full gear. A type pf red light seemed to be emanating through the dark room. The suspending tension could have been cut with a knife._

This thing can never be had by anyone else. With all of my luck that I've had with my ex-wives, I know we failed because we weren't them. These roots are binding them still.


	3. 3 of 3 Cragen's POV

Cragen's POV-

There'd been an unnaturally binding bond between the two of them since day one.

_ We'd been standing there for nearly over fifteen minutes. Sweat trickled down is face, as he listened._

_ He'd ceased breathing only a moment before. Opting, instead, to listen for any sound that might come from the opposite side of the heavy wooden door. He took a deep breath, the mixture of anger and fear that marred his features, left unchanged. The words that he would have spoken caught in his throat when he heard it. A whimper. Barely audible above the adrenaline rush he'd been on since the whole scenario had started._

I saw it with their first handshake. When their eyes met for the first time. It was palpable in the stare held between them as she sat at her desk for the first time. In the smile that had yet to leave either face since I'd introduced them.

_ Aiming his gun downwards, his arms taunt, no one could have missed the look of determination and fearing calm that passed over his face._

_ "Olivia?" He nearly bellowed. It was quiet, until he heard it again. Another, almost imperceptible, whimper. And before another eyelid could blink, his foot was drawn up and the door was forced inwards. Wood splintering from the frame in all directions._

Time has only seen that bond strengthened. The first cords tightened with the first stalker. The over-protectiveness that had radiated from him only made her smile. It was there again, the second time. Only she had responded with anger. The bond was stronger than ever when they had pulled out of that funk. Her mother's death had seen a closeness between the two of them that never existed.

_ The man had been standing over her. Waiting for our entry. She had been lying on a small cot, to the left of the small room. Blood oozing out of the small cuts on her body. Naked. Bruised and battered. A twisted type of grimace took over the man's face, as he pointed his gun at her head._

_ He big, chocolate, eyes widened even further, as she attempted to cry out to us. Albeit futilely, the rag stuffed into her mouth made that sound… made the sound even more weak. Our hearts broke. But my best friend's shattered._

_ "Drop your weapon!"_

It was because of that bond that so many operations went undetected by the targets, until the end. The bond that bound them so tightly was thicker than the cables that bind a bridge together. It held strong as business was mixed with personal. Not pleasure.

_ "I can't! This is hw it ends, don't you see?"_

_ "It doesn't have to!"_

_ "Oh, but it does."_

When his wife had filed for separation, the roles were reversed. She became his protector. She guarded him with ever power she had possessed. And I know he was thankful. He had never voiced it, but I knew. And so had she.

_ Before it happened, she had tried to scream, murderously, desperately, something out that strangely resembled my friend's, her partner's, name. we all knew it was._

_ The blast had everyone shocker. The man's face remained blank. Neutral. Even I couldn't have stopped the man who stood at my side. The man I thought of as a son. His arms dropped to his sides. A cynical smile overtook his face. Hatred flashed in his eyes, as his head lowered. And he had lunged at the man, who had taken his partner's life only moments before._

All that I can say, now, is that I wish I had established a bond such as they had with my wife, before her death. In the twenty seven years we had been married, we never established a connection like they had on that first day.

_ My self proclaimed son, my friend, had gotten a good run for his money with the man. Bloodied his up pretty good. As the overly emotional shell of the man, who had been so vivacious only moments before, stood and turned around, no one had the time to warn him that the man, who had been presumed unconscious, had slowly shifted and gotten a hold of the gun. Another blast shocked everyone, yet again._

Even though they are both gone, they are still like my own daughter and son. I will always love them. This unique web of sorts that held them together, we all know that it is still with them. Binding. Connecting. Tying. Rooting. Supporting. It's still there, and it can never be lost. The bond that they have shared in life, I now know they share even in death.

The End.


End file.
